


You Are the Light

by PyladesandOrestes



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyladesandOrestes/pseuds/PyladesandOrestes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Apollo, if you’re out there, I’d listen to the lyrics carefully, because, well, we got this request from our local police station.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [You Are the Light](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/61767) by Jens Lekman. 



> Thanks to Ali, the darling friend who helped me find the inspiration for this and who deserves a gold star for betaing!

It was a pretty typical Friday night at the Musain. The meeting had finished early, so everyone was sitting around, slowly getting inebriated while relaxing after a long week of classes and jobs. 

Except it wasn’t exactly a very typical Friday night, because Grantaire was nowhere to be found. Every time someone would open the front door, Enjolras would look over in a failed attempt to be discreet, and every time it wasn’t Grantaire walking in, he would slouch down further into his seat.

He was realizing that he had probably really screwed up yesterday, when he had gotten coffee with Grantaire as part of some new ritual that had formed in the past few months, since they both had 11:00 class on Thursday, and he had lost track of time and had hurriedly kissed Grantaire on the cheek with a “goodbye, I love you.” As soon as he had figured out what he had done, Enjolras had promptly turned the same shade of red as his scarf and had spent a few minutes rambling, an apology which had ended with him saying “I mean, it's not that I didn’t want to do that, I just probably shouldn’t have because now you’re in an uncomfortable situation and wow I am sorry and late for class, bye.” Then Enjolras had run to class.

Now, Grantaire had missed a meeting for the first time in over a year.

“Enjolras. He probably just got caught up in work or something,” Combeferre leaned over and whispered.

“Who?” Enjolras feigned nonchalance.

Combeferre gave him a look. “He works on Friday afternoons, maybe he had to stay late today. He’ll probably text someone soon. Don’t worry. I’m sure that it’s not some personal insult towards you.”

Enjolras made a noncommittal noise and took a small sip of the beer that had been placed in front of him by one of his friends.

Combeferre sighed, squeezed Enjolras’s shoulder and turned back to his conversation with Courfeyrac, leaving Enjolras to check his phone for the fifth time in as many minutes.

Enjolras sighed, tapping his foot impatiently as he turned to join Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s conversation, only able to pay partial attention. Just as Enjolras was starting to pay attention to Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s debate about their favorite X-Men, he was distracted by the voice of the  DJ of the college radio station, blaring out of the Musain’s speakers, announcing, “so, this next one is for Apollo.”

Enjolras’s head snapped up. He was pretty sure that very few college students went around calling someone else Apollo. And the only person he knew to do so was Grantaire, when referring to Enjolras himself.

“It’s from your R, whatever that means,” the DJ continued. “I had to play this song next because, well, it’s probably the most interesting request we’ve ever received here.  The message he told me to tell you, by the way, and this is a direct quote, is ‘fuck it.’ Apollo, if you’re out there, I’d listen to the lyrics carefully, because, well, we got this request from our local police station.” The DJ laughed and some upbeat trumpets started blaring out of the speakers.

Enjolras couldn’t form any words. He was too busy listening to the song and keeping his jaw from dropping to the floor.

_Yeah I got busted_  
 _so I used my one phone call to dedicate_  
 _a song to you on the radio._

“What the fuck?” Enjolras asked aloud.

His friends all looked at him in confusion, and he just motioned towards the air helplessly as the song continued.

_Yeah I got busted_  
 _in custody I imagined our melody_  
 _being played on a grand piano_  
  
 _I saw your face in front of me_  
 _it was perfect clarity_  
 _I saw a light in the end of the tunnel_

Enjolras’s heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest, as his stomach was engaged in aerobics practice. 

_And it was you_  
 _'cause you are the light by which I travel into this and that_  
 _you are the light_  
 _you are the light by which I travel into this and that_

Enjolras thought he was going to faint.

_Yeah I got busted_  
 _I painted a dirty word on your old man's Mercedes Benz 'cause you told me to do it_

Enjolras completely missed the next stanza. He placed his forehead onto the cold table and took a deep breath. But despite his stress and confusion at the situation, he couldn’t help the smile that was spreading across his face.  He remembered a conversation he had had with Grantaire about a month ago, when the two of them had ended up in Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta’s kitchen on movie night, sharing random stories about their lives and eating from the seemingly endless supplies of popcorn as everyone else watched a cringe-worthy horror movie.  Enjolras had told Grantaire about his dad’s snobbery and bigotry, and they had laughed about all the ways Enjolras could get back at his dad for being a shitty person.

_It's all so obvious, so obvious_  
 _why would anyone need a map or a compass_  
 _It's so beautiful to be guided by you_

Enjolras’s heart was lodged in his throat. He closed his eyes, remembering yesterday morning, when Grantaire had stared at him, stunned, as he had been unable to shut up.

_'Cause you are the light_  
 _you are the light by which I travel into this and that_  
 _You are the light_  
 _you are the light by which I travel into this and that_  
  
 _You are the light, light_  
 _You are the light, light_

The song faded off, and the anonymous college radio DJ came back on, “so Apollo, I think you should go collect your imprisoned knight in shining armor. But before that, here’s a personal favorite of mine.”  Enjolras stood up as soft guitar took over the radio.

“Combeferre. I need your keys. I need to go to the police station,” Enjolras reached over expectantly.

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think that I’m going to let you drive the Millennium Falcon?”

“The fact that Grantaire is stuck in jail right fucking now because he pranked my dad.”

Combeferre scrunched his eyebrows together. “Wait, so that song is actuall—”

“Yes. Keys.”

“Yeah, no, I’m driving you.”

Enjolras thought about arguing for a split second. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.” He grabbed his phone and walked out of the Musain. 

 

* * *

  

Grantaire was sitting in a corner of the overnight cell, trying very hard to avoid eye contact with everyone around him while also trying very hard to not think about the very shitty decisions he had made in the past hour and a half. He could no longer remember why he had thought a grand romantic gesture was a good idea. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply, fidgeting on the cell’s bench in an attempt to get comfortable. He consoled himself with the thought that it wouldn’t be the first time that he had slept in this very cell, even though the most recent time had been with Enjolras after a rally and that experience had therefore been significantly more enjoyable.

“Grantaire,” came the gravelly voice of one of the police officers, who was unlocking the cell with an expression of boredom written on his face. He swung the door open and nodded at Grantaire, “you’re out.”

“I am?” Grantaire stood up quickly, walking towards the door and subconsciously ruffling his hair.

“Yep. The charges were dropped,” the police officer motioned Grantaire out of the cell and relocked it before leading Grantaire out to a desk to collect his phone, wallet, and spray can (the last of which was handed over with a glare). “Your ride’s out front,” the officer grumbled before he continued walking towards the station’s waiting room.

Grantaire followed after him while checking his phone, grimacing at the 47 text messages and 16 missed calls. He pocketed it, along with his wallet, and tossed the empty spray can into the first trash bin he spotted. When the officer walked into the waiting room, he nodded at the deputy sitting behind the front desk before disappearing into a side room, leaving Grantaire to turn around and investigate the rest of the waiting room. And his heart promptly flew up to his throat.

Sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair, next to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, was Enjolras, who had stopped glaring warily at the deputy when he noticed that Grantaire had walked into the room.

The deputy barely looked up from the computer. “There’s your ride.”

Enjolras stood up and ran towards Grantaire, stopping awkwardly a few feet away and smiling shyly at him. Grantaire was filled with a strange sort of fear, because Enjolras had never smiled shyly at him in their entire lives.

“Hey.” Grantaire started. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and his smile became a little more natural. “Come on, let’s get out of here before, well, let’s just go.” Enjolras eyed the deputy one more time before nodding at Courfeyrac and Combeferre and then walking out of the station. Courfeyrac bounced up from his seat and enveloped Grantaire in a hug. Combeferre patted Grantaire on the arm amiably, leaning over and quietly saying, “I hope you wouldn’t mind making a stop at the Musain. Everyone was thinking about piling into my car and making an event of picking you up, but, well, Enjolras was in the process of having a conniption so we rushed him over here.” Combeferre smiled conspiratorially. Grantaire tried to return the smile, but he couldn’t seem to make his head do anything but nod. Courfeyrac threw an arm over Grantaire’s shoulder as they walked out the door, “yeah, I only got to join the adventure because of favoritism. Isn’t that right, babe?” Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow at Combeferre, who chuckled softly and grabbed Courfeyrac’s hand.

Grantaire hurried towards Combeferre’s car, where Enjolras was already sitting in the backseat squinting at his phone. Grantaire climbed into the car and studied Enjolras’s dim profile for a moment.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

Enjolras looked up. “You got arrested for defacing my dad’s sleazy car. I was not about to let you get stuck in jail for that. You deserve accolades, not a night in a cell.” He shrugged before returning to his phone.

“How did you manage—”

“I promised him that I would go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas next year.” Enjolras shrugged.

“Enjolras, you didn’t have to—”

“You’re not the only one that’s capable of being a dashing knight.” Enjolras turned to Grantaire, his eyes flicking down to Grantaire’s lips. He opened his mouth to say something else when Combeferre and Courfeyrac opened their respective doors and climbed into the car. Enjolras turned to look out the window, but not before reaching out to grab Grantaire’s hand.

“Come on. Today’s hero deserves a pint,” Courfeyrac announced as Combeferre started the car.

“Or four,” Grantaire muttered, looking down at where Enjolras’s hand was clasped over his.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras had never before really thought to be grateful about how close the Musain is to the police station. When Combeferre finally turned off the car, Enjolras took a deep breath and thought of the DJ’s message from earlier: fuck it.

“Hey guys. Grantaire and I will be right behind you. I need to find out more about the rude words on the side of my dad’s car.”

“Of course.” Combeferre smiled and Courfeyrac gave Enjolras a wink in the rearview mirror, and then Enjolras and Grantaire were alone in the car.

Enjolras snuck a look at Grantaire, whose grin from earlier was paired with a look of slight uncertainty in his bright blue eyes.

Grantaire chuckled, “you know, Apollo, how many people could honestly say that they have A Song nowadays. Today, we’ve joined that list.”

Enjolras laughed. He squeezed Grantaire’s hand as the car was enveloped in silence again.  Enjolras took a deep breath. “Grantaire. I think I’ve fallen in love with you. And I would really like to kiss you. So, unless I am completely misinterpreting the signs, in which case, please tell me and I will properly piss off…but if that’s not the case, I would really like to kiss you.”

Grantaire stared at Enjolras for a few seconds, studying his face. “God, I am so in love with you." Enjolras’s small smile broke into a wide grin as he leaned over, wrapped his arms around Grantaire’s well-defined shoulders, and finally kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, folks!


End file.
